Martyr before Maiden
by BebePanda401
Summary: AU: "That other world, although our society pretends to know about them, to respect them - we've never even journeyed their with our feet. We have never seen their suffering with our eyes. All we do is attend official receptions, and sigh upon their 'perfect' appearances. But, what does my opinion matter? I'm being forced into this. I have no opinion. And because of that, I cry."
1. Prologue

_**A/N:**_ _Yes, this is my newest 'Munto' story. I won't do much of an intro to this, aside the fact that this idea has been playing in my mind for around a month, and I finally decided to get off my rear and write the prologue. Updates are not going to be frequent, but I shall try my best to write to the best of my ability. Anyway, please enjoy. _

* * *

_**~Martyr before Maiden~**_

_Prologue:_

Many stories, both hand-me-downs and written in books, have long preserved different facets of royal advantages of life. How the princess shall always be rescued from her hellish fate, be it with a chaste kiss that tastes of fire and ice – or the wielding of a blade, sharper than the usual, well-crafted weaponry of modernistic times. How the prince shall always be in clad armour made from the finest refined metals, and the accents of said article of clothing shall hold a 'regal air', even when it doesn't breathe.

Not to mention, the unadulterated evil of the tales. How they are as dark as night, linger in the eerily shadowed-out forests for the purest victim to naïvely fall into their clutches (or claws, depending on how one wishes to personify the said evil), and do with what they bid. Of course, they are always the one to have defeat fall upon them, to be killed or locked away, the key thrown into a foggy abyss.

But, like a wise person once said – _nothing is what it first appears. _

In a distant and distinct world - much different from our own - the advantages of royalty looked highly appealing to the public eye, especially to the common _(vulgar) _folk. The exquisite cuisine, the softness of the cotton-woven clothing, the majestic domineer of the fine buildings. Yes, it was something to be_ (envied) _ admired by all.

But through a pair of jade orbs, it was nothing but a hellish night terror. The dresses, whilst their beauty of adorned lace, frilly ends and trailing over-coats were nothing to be compared to, the tightness of the metal-encased corset proved that it was nothing but pure agony. It felt like it was crushing her insides, like the pressures of society around her.

Society. _Society. _Just the mere mention of the word left a bitter taste in her mouth. In order to fit in with such a polite, formal groups, her corn locks hair often coloured to an ugly brown. This process was to avoid arousing suspicion, that her honourable mother may have committed one of the highest sins – adultery.

Being the daughter of a proud member of politics, it was her job to be the 'pretty, beautiful' little doll that never said a word, but appealed to men with a bat of her thick eyelashes and the move of her cherry lips. She was often in front of that mirror for hours, only patiently sitting and watching as the maids moved their hands all over her face, perfecting every nook and cranny of impurity.

A beauty of such a young age, is something the green-eyed girl could not agree with. Nor could she be a being of perfection. Since her youth, she was plagued with an ability that not only rendered her an outcast, but something of a mockery. Never, had she been allowed to go anywhere without an escort, for fear that this ability may be exploited to the public.

The '_general public' _applied to not only her world, but the _other_ world as well. That _other_ planet had been a neighbour to her own for generations, as long as she, or any of her ancestors, could even hope to remember. Those _other_ beings had integrated with her society, but none lived within her world. And for that, she often felt like her world was missing out on exploring their cultures, their way of life.

But of course, being a fragile woman in this day-and-age, her opinion was unnecessary.

"Miss Yumemi! You're Father is awaiting your company at the dinner table!" With a deep breath, she readied herself. It was time for her to be thrust into a façade of lies and spiteful glares once again.

* * *

_**A/N:**__The inspiration for this series actually comes from an anime I have been watching, called 'Guin Saga'. Paticularly, a character called Amanelis. No spoilers, but if anyone has seen the anime, I am basing Yumemi off of her journey. Hopefully, you shall enjoy the rest of this story. :)__  
_


	2. China Bell

_**-Martyr before Maiden-**_

_**Chapter 1:**_

_**China Bell**_

Early morning was the worst time, in Yumemi's overrated world of regal splendour.

True, it was the one time of day the maids and stylists do not fill their needs to cram her into that confined closet room to wipe away all of her _impurities _with liquid creams and brushes crusted with gold; but the atmosphere was always so breached and invasive at this early time, and Yumemi often found herself having to pinch herself - to make sure she hadn't been suffocated by the everlasting thick tension. She wished sometimes that it was just a simple night terror.

Her father, reading the paper _(he got one of the first additions daily - the front cover having some 'hostile' female going rogue a year ago being spotted)_, loomed quietly at the head of the table; pristine and gleaming white marble, with the matching seats. High quality brand, of _course._ Yumemi took note of his bodily changes; it became bigger with the unlocked and unlimited access of rich and plentiful meats and exotic fruits shipped from far of continents and strange lands. The colours vibrant, the harshness clear to sting youthful eyes.

Not hers, however. She shielded herself from such... unessential trivialities. She wanted to adorn in the other cultures, learn their way of life - not steal from them! However, the society she lived within saw things from a different perspective. One Yumemi seethed with rage against.

She could scoff at her father's shameful greed, at his hunger and desire for even more riches and climb up the social hierarchy but she kept her opinions quietly to herself. Girls should not speak up _(or think, but fortunately they were powerless to remove that aspect)_, unless permitted. That was the most held up of all the age-old rules of the Hidaka... _'family'. _That word alone caused Yumemi to be sceptical.

"Yumemi Hidaka," the surly, hoarse voice smashed through the silence of the massive, open space, causing jade orbs to glance slowly, but surely upwards, "you are very well aware that of the fact that there is going to be a _very _important gathering in our banquet hall tonight, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you _will _put on those satin gloves, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you will _not _venture off on your own, even if left to your own devices, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you _will_ be on your most polite behaviour, correct?"

"Yes, **sir."**

"And above all else, Yumemi; you shall _**not **_be the one to initiate any kind or form of conversation with any of the visiting representatives from the other world - unless you are permitted to do so, **correct?"**

"Yes... **_sir."_**

"Good. Now, eat."

Pearly whites clenched tightly in disdain, Yumemi picked up the silverware, taking precaution not to scrape the fine china. She may have been bitter and spaced-out that early morn, but she wasn't _heartless. _Her father's ears were sensitive, and she didn't want to cause the maids of her home any extra trouble, just because she was feeling a little ill of mind.

That contrasted with her personal morals as a human being. Not a maiden, mind you – but her own heart, the standards that she tried to live by, despite how crushing her responsibilities of reputation upholding for her namesake could be.

Maturity and manners were her mistresses. She could contain them, present them how she pleased, and nobody would know of their mistreatment and punishments behind closed wooden doors. That was her own realm of fantasy. That was her privacy, and she adorned in it as best she could. It was the one element she could control.

"Do _not_ pick at your food, Yumemi."

Lashes touching bottom lids, she stifled a groan, and looked out at the gardens. Twisting, lush grape vines weaved around the white crossed fencing, and a spiked hedge maze bordering the entire household. Almost like the Egyptian pyramids – getting through traps and dead ends, before finally reaching the treasures and gold awaiting the founder.

She herself, being the prize.

Yumemi Hidaka was almost the tender age of sixteen, and yet – had not yet found an eligible suitor willing to put up with her strange quirks and odd appearance and her damaged, broken reputation. Because of this, her Mother grew worried by day, her father became angrier every hour. She was displeasing them, dishonouring them for her lack of appeal to the public eye. She had creams galore, but her presentation of her voice was appalling to their ears.

_'No surprise there, then.'_

Gently putting down her fork on her plate, Yumemi brushed her pale lips with the small napkin _(delicately),_ ushering out a small, "thank-you," as the maid with the big brown eyes and happy domineer gathered her plate and cutlery together, and left the room. That maid did not walk like the norm in the walls of society – she floated a little to high off the ground with each step, with pointed toes. The strange thing was, every step contained more happiness than the other.

She twirled the dull _(fake)_ brown strands of long hair through delicate, manicured fingers. Removing herself from the table, Yumemi gave a slow and hesitant walk past her father. _Fear._ Her steps were hostile and rebellious – heavy-footed, dragging, and sluggish. His brows furrowed together: dark, menacing, _threatening._

"Do _not_ make a scene tonight."

Yumemi gave a small, wistful sigh, and bowed before exiting the dining hall. Her thin back pressed against the hallway wall. She sunk into her knees, her floral-designed dress creased and folded over. Yumemi didn't know the difference between the two.

If _only._

_**'Ring!'**_

Yumemi allowed her ears to hear the chime of the silver bells in the churchyard, beyond her luxurious manor house. She loved the church, ever since she was a child. She found it to a place of blissful solace, of comfort, of soothing voices and choirs with a song stronger than any courthouse. But most of all – it was the podium of a resting ground. The blades of grass that stood up next to graves, the entwining ivy on the tribute stones, the arched doorways – everything could be perfection, but chose to have flaws. It had the freedom to do as it pleased.

If she ever was to die at a young age, she would want to be lain down in a bed of roses, with clear, pure waters surrounding and encasing her ivory skin; garbed in a white, plain dress. All in that church ground, the ones she used to skip and laugh and be happy in. Long, _long_ ago. Back when she could still whisper all of her dreams,all of her fantasies, and all of her desires for the future. Back when she was allowed.

The maiden of green eyes and strongly presented morals did not allow herself to be captured by her realm of childish dreams for a second longer. Standing up and correcting the folds in her dress quick as she could, she plastered on a quaint, polite smile. The one she had learned to train from the eve of childhood, until it was practically perfect in every way.

Arched back, delicate hands, pursed lips. The key components in her prideful stride, as she went about her daily _'business'. _

Doe-like eyes watched her from a far off door, thin brows creased with anxiety, lips far too pale.

* * *

"_General...!"_

Blue orbs widened rapidly, composure suddenly stiffening and turning disproportional. Standing at attention for his arriving superior, he barely resisted the urge to bite his lip in worry – and also desperately trying to keep his clammy hands at bay. _Boy, _was he in trouble now.

"Sir!" He saluted, clean pressed uniform glinting with medals.

The older officer was a steadily built man – short and slightly withered, and his wispy hair had dyed grey with age - but held the aura of a beast – this was someone you did _not _want to anger. He could only glare, the younger general's teeth clenched. He shook his head in disappointment for the younger man, thick, silvery brows furrowed. "General, I think you know why I am here, do you not?" His voice was low – steely.

"Sir, I cannot fathom the reasoning." _Teasing. _Typical.

"_Rui. _This is the eighth maiden you have dismissed – just on first appearances! For two years, you keep up this façade of a great officer, yet you have not yet wed! What was wrong _this _time? Was she not up to your standards? Was she not beautiful, or of the correct class?" A lecture, a lesson never learned or taken in. Rui shrugged absent-mindedly.

"Sir, she was beautiful, and of a high nobility, I do agree. In book, she was a perfect match. However, her eyes did notbe fall on me, but my large and generous pay cheque that I get at the end of every month."

The older officer groaned. "Last time was almost the same reason."

"Then my reasoning shall stand."

"Rui! Do you understand that we need to keep up you're status? You are a high-ranking officer _and _closest advisory to Lord Munto." He stated firmly, Rui clenching his fist.

"I am _aware-"_

"-and so for the sake of not shaming ourselves in front of the other world tonight, I have arranged for you to meet a human female – good family. Proud family, with high recommendation."

If Rui was a fish, his mouth would never cease to bob. "What- _human? _Isn't that a little _too _risky?"

He only gave the younger boy a knowing look, "well, you're not satisfied here. You're young, Rui. But you let time slip through your fingers, you'll end up becoming nothing but a text in history books, as the war veteran who saved thousands, but never managed to save himself."

"Like-?"

"Shut your trap, introvert." Back-handing his head, Rui flinched in slight pain. "I expect you not to show any resistance or futility tonight, do you understand? This girl has an already shaky reputation as it is – it is for the benefits of both sides that we arrange this meeting." He concurred. Rui raised a brow.

"Is she aware of this?"

"I believe not, Rui. Apparently she, too, is a little rebellious for her own good. According to her father, anyway. Match made in our world already, if you learn to articulate yourself better." Chuckling grimly at the memory, the short hairs of his moustache tickled his nose.

He paid that small amount of concern for the girl no heed, but took note of another fact. "Hm. I see you have no cigar today?"

Older general shook his head. "I do not wish to flaunt my spare cost of tobacco in front of so many guests – there would be a vain uprising of jealousy, and we most certainly do not need that kind of drama. No, nothing like that kind of drama. Of course, that will be for a _later_ date." He explained, Rui folded his arms and smirking coyly.

"Well well, just take a look at you, Sir," he began, "being all humble and modest. I would have never thought you would have it in you to be so humane towards others and their well-beings, _Sir." _

"I told you to shut your trap, Rui. That mouth of yours is going to get you into deep trouble one day, and that shall be the day I won't be around to pull you out again." Rui gave an affirmative nod, eyes still playing on both ends of the field.

"I am aware."

"Good. Now, I shall be on my way. Do _not _cause a scene tonight, Rui. Promise me that, I beg you. This cannot go wrong. For the sake of the future." He forewarned. _His words mirrored that of the old king, before Munto was crowned. _Rui could only roll his blue eyes at the sentiment, the older officer beginning to take his leave from Rui's quarters. However, one last question played on his lips, taking his body hostage.

"Hold on for a second there, Ormond." A scowl at the mention of his name, "... I have to ask; what is this girl's name, anyway? No harm in knowing that, right?"

Ormond halted his movement, looking inquisitively at the younger general. They were met with a brief impasse of time for a few moments, before he ushered out,

"Hidaka. Yumemi Hidaka."


	3. Correct Timing

_**-Martyr before Maiden-**_

_**Chapter 2:**_

_**Correct Timing**_

"Lord Munto! Your troops are ready – are you going to issue your command?"

With a hefty sigh, Munto descended from his throne, red cape trailing down the golden-paved staircase. Passive and calm as he wished his composure could be, the twinge of annoyance reigned his gut supreme. Yet again, the mass amounts of Ender fleets had declared an attack on his Kingdom – and no diplomatic means of agreement could reach them; or their leader, Gridori. This was a bother indeed, especially to Munto and his military. More precious ammunition would be wasted, yet again.

_'Not to mention, the possible casualties that will befall from this fight...' _Munto gave a wave of his hand. "Go forth with the counter-attack, I shall be out in no time to aid you." The soldier looked horrified.

"_What?"_

"I said, go fourth with the attack, I shall be out to assist soon."

"Lord Munto, I highly recommend that you remain-"

"-Are you _**questioning **_me, soldier?" His voice was lowered: dangerously hushed. Barely above a whisper. Gulping thickly, the subordinate shook his head, a slight wave of fear crashing in his gullet.

"N-no, Lord Munto." He cowered, stammering; before declaring his will to fight and hastily departing from the King's private chambers. Clammy hands were the definition of his mood, fists clenched tightly.

Clad in black battle-wear and golden curvatures of metal, Munto was the defined reasoning of a dark blaze. His fire locks a wild mess – some framing his face, others hanging in his eyes. He had no time to tame his hair, and it had become somewhat of an icon within the male side of his family, despite who _(or what) _they married. His face etched a permanent scowl.

The king walked with heavy-footed steps down the halls, not caring for the various dabble and drawl coming from the gossiping workers; they giggled fruitlessly and stressed continuously, despite the roar of battle outside. Something about an uprising... and a tactical leader? He didn't bother for the petty details.

The problems of the human world and its corrupt society were not his main priority.

He rubbed under his eyes with his hand. It was too warm and flecked with scars, under his eyes too tainted with black circles.

"_Munto." _Halting at the mention of his bare name, golden eyes narrowed.

Adorned in a purple dress and her hair an even darker shade of violet, a lone woman stood at the end of the corridor. Her gaze was distant and cloudy, yet incredibly well-focused. His glance softened a little as he gave her his full attention.

"Ryuley. What can I do for you? I'm just about-"

"_-to head out into your next battle, I know. I am aware of that. You know I am." _Ryuley murmured quietly, her voice echoing that of a gently strum harp – every last note hit perfectly. Munto cocked a thick brow; she stood in limbo, swaying gently in her place. Her voice may have reached this world, but her body was stuck in-between dreams and reality.

"Then why-"

"_-do I stand in your way? I'm here to issue a warning to you."_

Another foreseen event? He flexed his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck, satisfied with the crack it made. It wasn't that he didn't heed her precautions with serious warning, but now was a critical time for his kingdom... and he needed to get out onto the battlefield as quickly as he could to protect the lives that he could... so...

"It shall have to wait. I need to find-"

"_-the key to the future, the one your mother told you about. She will be revealed to you soon, at your meet up with the other world late this evening. So make sure you go at all costs, otherwise you shall let her go from your grasp, and allow it to slip through your fingers and back into the shadows. And you know we can't have that."_

Eyes widened. "The key? It's... it has been found?" She nodded, leaving Munto startled. His mouth hanging agape for a few moments, he cleared his throat, looking seriously at her. "Are you positive? I trust your words Ryuley, obviously, however-"

"_-you have been waiting for so long, you've began to doubt if there is a key at all."_

He stood still. "I will address the issue as soon as I am back, Ryuley. I suppose tonight's events will be... well, eventful. To say the least."

Munto closed his eyes and sighed, striding off towards his troops. As if tonight wasn't pressuring him enough, now _this? _His father was right, all those years ago; sometimes, his pride could be so... no, not again. He wouldn't go back to that lesson, not yet. It was too early. The last time he did, had left severe consequences to a face he couldn't remember.

Ryuley's eye-line followed his retreating figure, giving off a small breath of her own. Her words engraved into the air, unspoken.

* * *

"_-now remember, you do not need to be strong in order to be smart and patient towards those who love you, so keep smiling for me!"_

With a click of the wooden door, Yumemi's smile of genuine love instantly vanished; replaced with a curled, bitten lip and trembling eyes. Her teeth mark had almost left permanent marks on her lips. Regaining her composure, she headed quickly down the hallway, hoping she did not catch the eyes of any wandering maids or workers at her estate.

That room was just _too _hot for her to be in any longer.

Turning a corner, she felt a wave of immense relief wash over her. She'd got away from any trouble, any scene being created – _they _didn't need the stress, not any more than they had on their small shoulders. Yumemi allowed her lips to perk as she closed her eyes - she was safe -, before taking a step, a small step...

"And now I'll just clean up this room- _uwah!"_

Falling flat on her rear, she felt a sharp pain shoot through her body, hissing at the effect. Rubbing her head, her vision cleared, "ouch..." what had even happened? That moment came out of nowhere! So fast, too fast...

"Miss. Yumemi! I'm really, _really_ sorry! I didn't see you coming!"

That voice was... so... _childish?_ Blinking, Yumemi saw the cause of her fall – was it the maid who collected her plates earlier that morning? ...Yes, it was. Short brown hair pulled back into a bun, huge brown eyes. She looked more like a puppy than the accustomed age to be able to work. It wouldn't surprise her if children were working here, not in the very least. Anything to be more _'efficient',_ as her father would say.

Rising to her feet, she dusted off whatever had befallen on her dress, "oh no oh no! Miss. Freya will be really mean if I don't fold these right again," - she had dropped a load of clean towels onto the floor. Bending down, Yumemi lent a hand to the frantic girl, helping to collect the fallen items. "Oh, you don't have to help-"

"I bumped into you, so I need to show my apology somehow." With a firm voice, the maid was rendered silent.

One corner to another, the brown-haired girl watched on quietly. Yumemi's knowledge of housework and assisting others with such chores wasn't lacking. If anything, she considered it her greatest talent, despite what her mother and... father would say about it. When finished, Yumemi handed her the rest of the towels, the smaller of the two giving a dulce smile.

"Thank-you! But I need to watch where I'm going – I never stop tripping over things!" She giggled, much like a child being given some form of sweet. Yumemi raised a brow and smiled a little – this girl was... different. No maid ever really said anything with this kind of confidence.

Specifically with _her, _of all people.

"You're welcome, but don't you worry about tripping over things. Some aspects of a person can never be removed, and others just need to learn to accept that." They were words from experience, not from being wise.

"Wow, Miss. Yumemi, you're really, really kind! You aren't like what everyone says, after all!" Said girl winced. "Well, bye-bye! It was nice to speak to you!"

Footsteps light and dainty, it almost looked like she was a small bird, gently hopping around. She encompassed such a happy, carefree nature – even when bound in a dull black dress and plain, white apron. Yumemi's heart grew admiration, her mind screamed envy.

Her stare followed, before the maid turned a corner. Yumemi chuckled a little to herself, before grimacing, biting her lip.

So everyone _did _have those negative opinions, still...

Shaking off her dejected attitude, she slipped away from the west wing of the house, allowing herself to spiral deeper into the abyss of her mind. Back when silver church bells and pink flower crowns were the epitome of her desires.

* * *

With a breath of smoke, Rui inhaled the toxic stick. He _should _be on the battlefield right now, assisting Munto in an effort to quell this idiotic war and allow peace to contaminate the lands upon where his birth was held. He _should _be slaughtering those who dare oppose the peace system that his dear friend had created. Should be, being the key word.

Instead, he was on the first ride to the other world, under heavy protection, guarded by a mass of... well, guards. A smog of tobacco filled the room and coated the ceiling. The smell was heavy and many turned their noses up at it; but it was an acquired taste – one that brought him something enjoyable to indulge in. His mind trying to focus on the novel in his hands, but al he could do was sigh again.

"Could we at _least _hear some news about the battle? Contrary to popular belief, I _am_ worried for my comrades, you know. Is that such a crime?" Teal eyes looked up, wanting to hear anything _other _than the sounds of whispered co-ordinates and fantasy-designed transportation.

No answer.

"Anything at all?"

No answer.

"Fucking people..."

"_Language, **General** Rui."_

He gave out a disgruntled groan, glaring in disdain at the escorts. If impatience was a sharpened blade, then this room would be sprayed red within seconds, "so you heard that then?! How about an answer to my other questions then, hm?"

No answer. He seethed with annoyance.

Rui opted for silence for the rest of the journey. Apparently, they wanted him to meet this... Hidaka girl as soon as possible, for fear of their transportation being attacked. Petty crooks, most likely – nothing he couldn't handle, but these were rumoured to be more precise and organized with each of their kills and random thievery. Higher than mere bandits.

So much so, they'd actually been on the front page of the human's paper. _That _was a rarity in itself. Most of the human front-covers contained spoilers and updates on noble life and political agreements with every nation, or to praise the heavenly beings on their perfection. He'd picked up a few additions of papers, it always contained those kinds of stories.

Never about the danger the people could be in. But this was a tidbit _too _juicy to ignore. Not because they cared, but because it would sell. Anything for money, to move higher-up the chain of the social hierarchy. Just another horrid human thing, he supposed.

Greedy, selfish beings.

...Rui _hated _human kind. Just the name of their species brought a bitter taste to his mouth.

_However..._

"Yumemi Hidaka... I wonder what you will be like? For a human of your ranks to have such a broken reputation to need _me _of all the possible living creatures in this world to fix it... intrigues me, to say the least. I have a feeling this meeting will be... fun." He gave a wistful laugh, before inhaling a gulp of his smoke, letting off a ring on the exhale.

He looked away as a tall girl poured him a drink of apple wine, looking at him carefully. The mention of the noble girl caused the girl to give a slight grin to herself, before she briskly walked away. Hooped earrings dangled, short hair covering her ears, green bandanna hung over her sullen eyes.

The metal on his badges lay unpolished, once-gleaming; they lay dulling in the mid-morning sun.

* * *

_**A/N: **And thus, we are introduced to another character. The 'maid' (if you haven't figured out who she is, watch the show again), will be a major character. Please review. :)_


	4. Whispered Identity

_**~Martyr before Maiden~**_

**Chapter 3:**

_**Whispered Identity**_

Truth be told, Yumemi had not always the object of her father's scorn.

There was a period, once upon a time in her life, where he would put aside his work for her. He would lead her out into the centre of his study, place her bare feet on his leathery soles – before he lead the both of them to move in a rhythmic pattern, hands intertwined and a genuine smile upon his lips. They danced to their private orchestra – her childish hums and his gruff, but hearty choruses.

That smile. That _true _smile. It was one she sorely missed, despite her 'rebellious' and 'uncaring' nature towards her peers and family, as her father sought to put it.

"_Keep your dreams alive, Yumemi."_

Those words used to give her such innocent hope, her heart couldn't help but believe in them. Her mind may have said otherwise, but to a child, logic is second-best. Back when flower crowns were worth more than twisted metal and rammed-in jewels.

"-_memi, _Miss. Yumemi!" Her thoughts were cut off by a frustrated cry, as Yumemi sighed deeply.

Right. The reception of the two worlds this evening. She'd completely forgot. Or at least, purposely tried to not remember.

"You need to stop daydreaming, Miss... one day those dreams of yours are going to get you in trouble!" Her maid scolded with a smile, Yumemi merely chuckling.

"Honestly... right, Miss, please raise your arms up!" Complying, the golden sash was tightened around her waist, constricting her breathing and beautifying her figure into a slim, curvy set of lines.

Truth be told, she _hated _the formal dress her father had picked out for her to wear for the evening. Not hand-picked, she assumed, it never was. It didn't apply to her tastes at all – scarlet red, cascaded down to her ankles, the sleeves down to her wrists. Golden hems with flower patterns (she guessed lilies) sewn on the bodice, and the entire right-side of the leg of her dress with much larger golden patterns.

Not to mention, the bodice seemed to dip down just a little lower than usual. She knew the symbolism behind that.

Her skin had been waxed and stripped of any fine hair – moisturised so it was soft to the touch. Her face was smothered in creams and powders. Her lashes thick and black, her lips and eyelids the same colour as her dress. She looked more like rare merchandise to be sold off than the daughter of an aristocrat.

"But what is life without a little fantastical thinking?" Her hair was now dry, freshly-dyed to that same plain brown, pulled back into an elegant bun (clipped with a red rose-pin).

Her new maid – Rebecca – always did such a fantastic job with it, never judging her. At least, not outwardly. If she was the discrete type, then Yumemi reckoned she should have a career in acting, not in serving a household.

"If you're going to continue with that way of thinking, why not become an artist?" She suggested, adding the finishing touches to her apparel. Her gloves were golden, satin and thick. "I don't see why you have to wear gloves all the time, you know!"

..._Right. _She forgot this maid was new here.

"Personal preference. I dislike my hands." She explained.

"Ah," Rebecca nodded in understanding, "however, I do wish to paint your nails at some point! I used to paint my mother's nails all the time, actually! She did love them... anyway! Would you allow me to do so at some point, Miss. Yumemi?"

Such an _innocence... _Yumemi couldn't help but feel pity. However, she would rather allow pity to consume her than to let another scar to her heart be had.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca, but I..." She shook her head, "I can't let you. I'm sorry."

Dismayed. That was the one word that summed up her face. Either that, or disappointed. Both of those words were like a drug to Yumemi, now. "I see. That's fine, please don't apologize!" But she did have to. Sorry didn't always make things better, but somehow, it helped _her._

"At least..." There was no point arguing.

"Anyway, I suppose tonight is rather exciting for you, isn't it? Meeting all these well-known aristocrats..." If that could be called exciting, "hearing all about the other world..." Like she hadn't already, "and," a slight smirk, though playful in teasing, "even meeting your possible future spouse! I've heard he is a General, such a well-famed, respected military figure..."

..._What?_

"Pardon?" Her voice was firm.

"O-oh..." Rebecca began to feel her throat clog up. She'd assumed that she would know... "I, uh, well..."

"What did you just say? Possible future spouse? General? Other world?" Her voice got louder, "_where _did you hear of this?" _And why was I not informed?!_

She shrank in her work shoes, feeling very small, "I-I was told by some of the workers down on the bottom floor... a-apparently most people kn-know about it..."

"Most people?!" Yumemi's voice raised even higher, strained by her throats desperate attempts to be calmer, "why was _I _not informed of this? Why was I last to know? _Again! _I swear..." She sighed deeply, beyond hurt and annoyed.

"I-it may have just been a rumor, and they got confused, Miss. Yumemi..." It was a weak offer at trying to make her feel better. Yumemi didn't take it.

"Rumors in this house are always true, Rebecca. We have no reason to lie, only to cover up the most important details.

She stayed silent.

Yumemi clenched her gloved fists, before marching out of her room. Her gaze was like firelight – red, dangerous, like her scarlet dress. All she needed was a sword, and she would almost look like a martyr, rather than a maiden.

"M-Miss Yumemi, I don't think-"

Her head whipped around, eyes slit and deadly. Rebecca gulped audibly. "I'll keep quiet about you being the one who told me, as long as you say nothing further to stop me."

"Y-yes, Mam."

And with that final warning, Yumemi marched off, shoulders swinging angrily. Oh, did she have a few words to say to her 'daddy dearest'. Rebecca stayed very still, almost quaking in her shoes.

* * *

Despite being a general of the highest rankings, Rui was not one to keep up-to-date with current political affairs.

True, he was good friends with his King, not to mention those he chose to associate himself with would earn him more than a plump position within the rankings of those who ruled the nations. His paycheck was also something to be admired and envied.

But for all that glamour and fortune, if those who were his supposed _'body-guards'_ could not even inform him of the state of his fellow comrades, then why should he even bat an eyelash at the way they twisted people into false pretences of hope and justice? He scoffed. Munto often tried way too hard to appeal trustworthy. Oh, how utterly _pitiful_–

"General Rui!"

_Ugh. _Rolling his eyes and putting out the but of his cigar, he stood to attention, "how may I help you?" It was a firm answer. Laced with a patronizing undertone.

"We have arrived. Please take care when going to your quarters – someone will be there to guide you, until this evening."

The door closed with a soft '_click_', the contraption whisking away, as he began his brisk walk through the halls of what he could only assume was the crown court. The reception was only around an hour or so away... god, how he hated their formalities. Too fickle. Too sugar-coated. But then again, the meetings were so controlled anyway...

It had only been around ten minutes, admiring some of the foamed portraits of politicians and royalty on the wall, when he heard a stern, but hushed voice.

"General Rui?" Glancing around, his eyes remained uninterested.

The girl who had poured his drink earlier. Her posture told him polite, her eyes told him to be annoyed. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"I will be your guide to your chamber. Please, follow me." She gestured at him to follow her, to which he did not. She'd _been _on the transportation with him! How could she _possibly _know the way? This was off. Rui knew suspicious figures, women were no exception.

"Hold on a minute." She stopped, as he folded his arms, "you were the one who served me my drink, back on the transporter. How in the name of the Heavens above do you know your way around here? And how can I even trust you?"

She bowed to him (though looked like she was grimacing as she did so), "forgive my sudden indecency. My father is Take Ono – a senator of this land. He sent me over a means to assure your safety upon arriving in this land. I could not reveal my identity, as it was critical to my task to keep it hidden."

He raised a brow. She could lie quite _well, _he'd give her that. Almost too well, as if she'd been... trained. "Why did they not send a member of their military, then? That would make much more sense."

"Secrecy, General. You would not expect a woman to be working undercover to make sure your safety is the highest priority, especially the daughter of a senator, would you?" Another good question. But one he had the answer to. If she were a member of his squadron, he could see a few enjoyable banters between the two.

"So then, why do you hold a weapon? That would most definitely show your identity." She opened her mouth to protest, "and don't say it was for any 'surprise attacks'. I had plenty of men there that I have worked with for years."

"But-" Her façade was slipping.

"And for that matter, why were none of my men not informed – everything to do with my safety goes through Ormond. If anything, you could be a mercenary, sent to end my life. So no, I will not follow you."

He ended his speech, his bombardment of flaws within her 'plan' to whatever she was... well, planning. She looked down hesitantly, biting her lip. He smirked.

Seconds passed them by. Looks like he'd won this argument.

With a slight victorious smirk, he was about to head off toward his chamber (or at least, hope to find it before something else weird happened) – before a slow, daunting clapping sound was heard from her, followed by a rather... patronizing chuckle.

"Well done, Rui."

Her voice was deeper, this time. More assertive. It almost spooked him.

"...What?" He glared back at her. He didn't particularly care for the disbandment of his title, more of the tone he was addressing him with. "What do you mean?"

"You figured me out. Quite intelligent, as the rumuors say. I was such a fool to underestimate that brain of yours." Her bandanna fixed, the golden hooped earrings dangled. They caught a glint of red. "But perhaps, that argument can be seen both ways."

"What are you on about, you fool?" Okay, so he wasn't one for _witty _retorts. Or insults.

A lop-sided smirk, she twirled her twin daggers up in the air from two concealed holders from her thighs, before catching the handles with familiar accuracy. He took a tentative step backwards. She slowly walked towards him, his steps in perfect beats to hers, until his back was against the wall.

She pressed the tip of her blade to his chin, the point hot with anticipation, the metal cold with deliverance from this world. "Let me see your mistakes, shall we?"

"My mistakes?" He spoke up. Not that he hadn't been in these situations before.

"You gave me the name of one of your superiors, that is usually kept secret. Ormond. A unique name, so should not be that hard to find." He swallowed. "You know enough about human culture, when you haven't been here before. I could use that as a means to frame you for any raids on this palace. And with the name you have given me... I could use that as a way to make it seem the Heavens were planning an attack on this world."

"Then go ahead and do it. Begin a war you humans cannot win." _Why not kill me now?_

"I don't wanna." She grinned, taking a step back.

"_What?"_

"See, I was gonna kidnap 'ya, y'know, for leverage and ransom money – but you're pretty smart. You'd figure a way to get out. So, I need you to do something for me. I'll spare your life in return."

_What the hell was with this girl's ways of thinking? _

"And what makes you think I won't just kill _you _instead?" He readied his sword – only to find it missing. Frantically, he patted his belt line – only to look up at the snickering figure. The woman – who he would affectionately dub as a twelve year old boy with eyelashes thicker than his skin – was holding it in her grasp, smirking. He frowned. "Give that back."

"One condition."

"Give it _back _to me."

"You don't show I've been here. I'll be at the reception tonight, among the crowds"

"What does that have to do with me-"

"And being the 'fragile woman' that I am, I could just use you as the reason as to _why _I rebelled – because I was forced by a rather _forceful _General. My father would get angry at you, saying this was a way for you to show your disrespect to humans. So don't doubt my ability to ruin your reputation just like that," she clicked her fingers.

His mouth hung open. He _had _underestimated her intelligence. Or she had just gone to someone to look into the future and record everything he was going to say, therefore coming up with a witty response. He chose to believe the latter.

"You honestly expect me to just..." Rui began, in a rather dark and threatening tone, but soon realized she was the one with leverage. It appeared his neck was at ends with the noose, and she was the one tugging the rope. "...Fine. Now, give me back my sword."

She tossed it back to him. It appeared she was a woman of fair word. _One redeemable factor point._

It soon went back into his belt, as azure eyes met with an ash gaze. What was that look? ...It was the look of loss. But what loss? The loss of a weapon? Friend? Loved one? Missed opportunity?

They broke it mere seconds later.

"Well then!" She smirked, "I'll be seeing you, _General._" It was almost taunting. She turned on his heel, when he placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked startled – he was... fast. "What?"

"Your name. What is your name?"

"...Huh."

"It's a question. Just answer it." He sighed.

She raised a brow, "you want to know the name of the one who tried to kidnap you? Are you an idiot or 'sommat?"

"Just answer the goddamned question, ingrate." Rui snapped, causing her to glare.

"Who the hell are you calling- gah, you know what, never mind." She shook his shoulder away, shuddering a little. As if he was a plague. Consuming her. She walked to the edge of the hallway, near the window. Her feet on the windowpane, she glanced back. "I am known as the One Protector. Try to figure that one out! Hah!" Poking her tongue out at him, she slipped out the window, unseen by anyone. Rui's eyes widened, dashing forward to see the broken body that lay on the grounds below... only to see none. There was nothing but the whisper of the winds.

She'd gone. Or hidden.

He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. Who in Heaven's name was that? If she was a robber, why did she not steal his sword? Why did she leave, just because he was smart enough to see through her blatant lies? And... how did she have so many high connections? How could she see the threat of war to be played with like a game? Her father was Taki Ono, or was that just a cover-up?

It was all way too confusing. But the one thing he did know was – he was in deep trouble. She'd assessed him in the space of one conversation, and threatened to break his name with just a few choice words. He could cover it up, but he knew how the human world saw women. No equality, not really, unless they were the victim of an attack. That's what gave her the upper-hand.

He drew his sword, trying to forget the encounter in the beauty of the blade. Long, silvery sheen, with the inscription of _Wind _in some native language only his Grandfather understood. He never taught him.

The Magical Beings – the inhabitants of his world – once had a supreme language, quite poetic, centuries ago. But it had been replaced with the human language. His native tongue, destroyed. They could wield elements, with their energy _Akuto_. Now all management of that energy went into keeping his people alive.

He withdrew his blade, placing it back into the worn-out scabbard.

Rui's footsteps went unheard, though they were heavy-footed, echoing around the empty hallways.

* * *

"-FATHER!"

The door slammed open, Yumemi's eyes full of anger. He did not bother to look up from his work, not even when his teenage daughter stalked towards him, an almost feral look on her face. "Can I help you, Yumemi? And please , try to keep it down. I happen to be rather busy-"

"Busy arranging my wedding plans, I assume?" To that, he did bother to look up. Her gaze was focused and intense, but also slightly hurt (to which he did not pick up on) "_Why _was I not informed of this? Why do you feel it necessary to keep me in the dark about my own future, father?" She folded her arms, brows furrowed.

Only reorganizing his papers, he sighed at her naïvety. "Your reputation is broken."

_That hurt. _"And? I am aware of that. So just tell me, _why-"_

"And we need to fix it when you hit maturity. It is not yet confirmed you will be wedded to him, if he approves. So, make sure to put on a good impression for tonight." His words were so cold, as was the study. The curtains were drawn.

"So I'm just... _merchandise?_ To win over the other side?"

_Now _he looked up properly. She sounded almost like a distressed child.

"Understand. I am doing this for the benefit of the family. You should take that into consideration." She flinched. "They have plenty of experienced-"

"-I understand." Just a simple acknowledgement of understanding. If he bought _that _up, then she couldn't refuse.

_Clammy hands and a weak smile._

She hated that sight. Detested it with every fibre of her being. Bowing, her eyes were distant. "Forgive my intrusion, father. I shall leave you be, now." And with that, she turned, her feet light, dainty, respectful of not creating any further disruption.

Her father sighed deeply as she closed the door, only a slit of light from the keyhole pointing at his eyes. He put his head in his hands. His papers had newly acquired creases.

* * *

_**A/N: **Pay attention to that last scene. It has fuuuuture hints! And, yeah, sorry for the lame-ass chapter, it was going to be longer, but the next chapter will be LONG! Long and filled with first meetings and mysteries and DADDY issues and EXPLOSIONS. So I hope you enjoy!_


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